Plaits and Pursed Lips
by LIONKATE
Summary: A series of 100 drabbles total on dear Will Scarlet and a lady friend- because Will didn't get enough love. Based on Prince of Thieves. WillOC
1. Watching

**The following drabbles are in no particular order, just the order I chose to write them in. Maybe at some later time I'll set 'em up chronologically. **

**Based on Prince of Thieves, because our dear Will really needs more love. **

**Disclaimer: Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves belongs to Warner Bros and director Kevin Reynolds. Anne is all mine. **

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**96 Watching**

The past months had been nothing but trouble, in his very esteemed opinion. Who did he think he was, this Locksley noble? Who was he to come back from his stupid holy war and decide he was like them? Who was he to risk their lives? Who was he to become defender of the people?

His sulking brooding was interrupted when a hand _thwaped_ the back of his head. He turned but he had a good idea who it was before he even saw the plait draped over her shoulder.

"Stop staring, Scarlet. People will start talking."


	2. Party

**25 Party**

The festivities were well underway; Fanny had born a strong son and was yet living herself, that was enough for a celebration. The fires were bright, the music lively, and the Maid Marian Locksley had brought looked quite lovely.

"May I have this dance?" She took the flower gladly but Locksley was there in an instant, claiming his territory. Once more he had been bested by _Robin Hood_. Scowling, he moved away from the festivities. Anne stood a few steps away.

His face brightened on seeing her- she looked rather comely, if not for the pursed lips and sour face. "Anne, dance with me." He held out his hand.

She scowled- worse than him, he thought. "Go to hell." She stormed past and, try as he might, he couldn't figure out how he'd been rejected twice.


	3. Fire

**52 Fire**

"Bull, pass the mead." He held his hand out expectantly, staring at roaring fire in front of him. Or, perhaps, just past the fire at the whelp trying to woo Anne. He was young, blue-eyed and baby-faced, and he'd been grinning at her all day.

Anne, despite sometimes frightening men away, was a very sociable person and had made little if any attempt to dissuade the boy in his conversations. He was sitting a little too close, in Will's honest opinion, and was grinning far too much to be trusted. He saw her lean away from him as the boy scooted closer.

He was up and moving across their circle before he realized what he was doing. The fire cast shadows across his face as he looked down at the whelp, making him seem a frightful, foreboding figure. When the boy had scurried away he sat himself down beside her, ignoring the look she was giving him.


	4. Earth

**Oh jeez, I'm so sorry guys. Mein computer ist kaput. It totally blue-screened. I'm working on it.**

**53 Earth**

The fall was not quite so hard as she had expected; she found her pride more injured than her rear, or even the food she'd been carrying. She'd made a face and glared at the dirt beneath her before turning to glare at whoever was laughing at her.

While she didn't immediately recognize him or remember his name, she soon realized she'd seen him before. She had spotted him on the streets every now and then, heard the villagers talk of him, knew him to be something of a trouble maker; Elle had already marked him for a life as an outlaw. Huffily, she stood and dusted herself off. "Glad you're amused."

He laughed again and threw a "Very." her way before he came forward and began gathering what she'd dropped. She kneeled down as well and dusted off a loaf of bread before putting it back in its sack. Dropping the last loaf in he stood with the rough sack and handed it to her when she had straightened out.

Almost grudgingly, her pride still stinging, she thanked him and, after a moment, introduced herself. "Anne." She said with a nod.

"Will Scarlet."


	5. Flowers

**36 Flower**

He watched Meg run from one side of the clearing to another and sighed heavily as he dropped down to sit at the base of a tree. When Anne had asked him to take care of her while she helped Elle treat another sick child, he'd thought he was getting out of doing the truly hard work. She had conveniently forgotten to mention, however, the amount of sheer energy the little girl had.

She had nearly made him fall in the river, had him trek through half the forest (or so it seemed to him), talked his ear off, and had all but demanded that he take her somewhere she could pick flowers. When he had tried convincing her that there were no flowers she'd given him a straight look, put her hands on her hips, and pursed her lips. He'd laughed so hard he'd nearly cried. She couldn't have been any more than six years old but she'd mimicked her aunt's look so perfectly that he felt as though it had been a younger Anne, and not her niece, demanding flowers.

So now he sat, watching her pick flowers, and knowing he might as well have been looking into Anne's past.


	6. Weakness

**83 Weakness**

He couldn't quite believe it was the 18th. And to think it was Locksley himself who reminded him of the day, he scowled. He had no right to remind him it was his mother's birthday, or that it would have been. Of course, Locksley didn't know- nor would he have cared.

He felt her approach more than he heard her. She brushed past him, her hand falling on his shoulder for a second, and sat down a few paces away. She didn't say anything, didn't acknowledge him outside the brief second her hand had touched him.

She looked a little like his mother- around the eyes and her hair, if it wasn't for all the plaits. He lowered his head onto his knees, only noticing the angry tears when he tasted them. She never moved from her spot but he felt her hand in his hair.

It was hard to say how long they both sat there- crying silently while she stroked his hair- but when he was done she stood and leaned over him, pressing a kiss into his hair, and walked away.


	7. Rain

**I'm so far behind. On everything. Thank you Silk345 for your lovely review. **

**Disclaimer- I own nothing. If I did, I sure wouldn't just be writing fanfiction.**

**62 Rain**

He wasn't sure how long he'd been standing in the rain. He wasn't sure how long she'd been standing in the rain. _He wasn't even sure when it had started raining_.

He was sure, however, that he'd never seen her hair loose. It was always braided down her back or draped over her shoulder, or maybe in a hundred little plaits all over her hair- but never down.

It was a strange shade. Something like a brown that didn't want to be brown and so it stole bits of black and red and spread them here and there. Soaked as it was it was darker, almost entirely black, falling down her back and just brushing her waist. Shorter bits of dark hair clung to the sides of her face, her lips and cheeks red from the cold.

She looked up to smile at him from where she stood and he realized he'd forgotten how to breathe.


End file.
